Untitled Lando Story
by worldstealers
Summary: Where's Lando? What has he been doing since he helped the Alliance destroy the second Death Star? Why isn't he in the new movies? We caught up with our second favorite Millenium Falcon pilot ten years after he fired those proton torpedoes. Curious as to his fate? Read on...


"It was my favorite cape, you know. I had it custom made. It was so slick, embroidered even, and they just plastered through it." He was swirling around the distilled pre-ration Tarrisian wine, as if he already knew how it would taste and wasn't looking forward to it. "People won't say it, but one of the first casualties of war is style."

She also knew the wine was bad and too strong for her anyway. She'd ordered Banthan milk but hadn't really touched it. It sat between them on the beaten little table.

"After the first rebellion, everyone was all over Han. With all the accolades between him and Luke, and then Leia just went to work. But she…" He looked off at a group of Lyunesi trading radios underneath the bar tables, but his gaze wasn't focused on them.

She cleared her throat.

"Not a word for me, though. Not a ship or anything. Yea they made me a General, but even fricking Ackbar was an _Admiral_. Sure, I got to stand ceremony when things were good, before the First Order decided to upend us. But what do I have to show for all those pats on the back now?" Finally he placed the glass of wine down, laughing a little at the memory of it all.

He couldn't escape reliving it, just like he couldn't escape hearing the names of old friends that he only guessed at now whether they were alive or not.

He ran slightly wrinkled fingers over his eyebrows, calming himself. The bristled grays peaked out from the middle of his hair line.

"I know I know. I didn't exactly follow a decent route, but you know, I'm not a perfect man. No man is. I mean, even Han had his treacherous moments. One of his best qualities if you ask me." He pointed into the distance, as if the fabled captain was standing behind the front doorway.

"But I did good by a lot of people." He slapped the table, and continued, "I mean a whole damn city, and I was the only one protecting them. After that, oh ho, it's like they couldn't even trust me with the falcon. Which got lost by the way and was not my fault. Smuggler had what was coming to him. Tried to blame everyone else for his own mishaps. Oh, no. I wasn't taking the fall for that one. I mean, I was tired of taking the fall for things. Never again. Get older and you think, I'm not falling for that again."

She looked at her watch. This blind date was going way worse than she had ever imagined.

"Now we all sit around here off-site hearing about the antics of them all over again. As if they're gonna change things for the better finally, and for good. Didn't they learn the first time? Like evil and greed are just gonna fade away in this galaxy. Never could learn that you just have to look out for yourself. I used to think that maybe I had room for all that hope, but no no. Turns out old Lando was right all along."

With one swoop he picked up his glass again and this time downed the whole thing in one gulp, grimacing from the rough flavor. He finally looked over at her face, leaned in. He was resolved.

"Probably never thought you'd hear that side of it, would you?"

"I honestly don't even know what you're talking about."

He froze. "You're kidding."

"No, you keep referring to your friends as if I know who they are. I only know Tina, you know the Clantaani who set this up."

He waved a finger up to the droid-tender, who acknowledged with a two-toned beep and swung over with another wine glass. During the signal and delivery, he stared at her squinting in disbelief.

"Ohhhhh," he said finally, leaning back. "You're a spy then. Well tell them I don't know anything and haven't for over a decade."

"I run a moisture farming unit on the south side of the planet."

He smiled playfully, happy to figure out whatever covert game she was playing. "Sure, as a front. All spies need a side business to keep of the radar. Farming is perfectly boring enough for that."

"Boring? I like moisture farming. In this atmosphere it's very complex. It takes up most of my time." She said with some heat behind it. Wouldn't let her talk for a full 45 minutes and now he was insulting her life's work. "It's probably the reason I have to go on blind dates like this."

He kept staring at her but had finally stopped talking.

"We've finally developed another plot big enough to feed our resourcing, which gives me more free time, and I finally thought I could get out more." She took a sip of her frothy drink nervous at his accusatory look and knowing that he was probably the kind of guy to carry a blaster under his ostentatious fur coat that he insisted on storing behind the bar when they got there. She hung her perfectly nice womp rat leather jacket on the back of her chair.

Awkward moments continued to sit between them. The score of the bar around them and the grungy patrons she normally wouldn't have socialized with seemed to silence itself as they paused.

"So when I said, Hi I'm Lando…"

"I thought it was an interesting and simple name. Everyone else around here has so many consonants in their name." Now she wanted a Tarissian wine to wash off her irritation.


End file.
